


Something's Up With Eddie

by drakarifire



Series: the life and resurrection of Eddie Kaspbrak [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, F/M, Fix-It, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Not Beta Read, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slow Burn, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Stanley Uris Lives, The Losers Club Have the Shining (IT), The Turtle CAN Help Us (IT)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26626831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drakarifire/pseuds/drakarifire
Summary: You'd expect things not to be the same after getting skewered through the chest by a killer clown, but Eddie Kaspbrak certainly didn't expect being inexplicably tied to his six childhood best friends by a giant turtle.Or, sometimes being alive is a long road full of tough choices.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris
Series: the life and resurrection of Eddie Kaspbrak [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937041
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Something's Up With Eddie

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was supposed to be my entry for the Reddie Big Bang, but depression and COVID kind of kicked my ass. I did originally intend for this to just be one long fic but chapters just felt easier to manage on my end. 
> 
> Sorry if the summary doesn't give much, I just didn't want to give too much of the plot away u-u 
> 
> ANYWAY watch the tags cause they'll be changing as we go! Some of this story is still in the works and changing so I'll keep those updated as I post chapters. Until then please enjoy <3

Eddie gets there just in time to watch the crumbling remnants of their childhood nightmare evaporating into thin air. It was a little anticlimactic all things considered. Wispy tendrils of black dust floating upwards, light and delicate. Now, Eddie was no Bill Denbrough who could wax poetic for three paragraphs about the most inane things. His imagination, when he used it, was better suited to diseases and daily risks, so he can’t say with any certainty what exactly he’d pictured this moment was going to be like. He just thought there’d be...more. Something final he could point to and go- “Shit. Yeah, it’s over.” He wouldn’t have been picky about it either. He didn’t need Pennywise’s entire corpse sprawled out on the cavern floor, he’d have been fine with a few of those fuck-ugly pompoms or maybe a tuft of hair. Just...something. 

Then again, all they had to do was bitch It to death. If he’d known that much when he was thirteen this would have been over a long fucking time ago. 

“You guys know you’re probably coating your lungs in space clown dust, right? I mean who knows what the fuck kinda diseases-” 

“Eddie?!” Richie’s head snaps up first, eyes wide behind his glasses. Next thing he knows he’s got six pairs of eyes staring at him with matching expressions of shock. Eddie doesn’t blame them, he’s surprised to be standing here too. 

He thinks maybe he should go up there with them. It feels like it’d be important to have the seven of them standing together in victory, hands clasped like that summer.

Only Richie’s already scrambling down from the crater. Impossibly gangly limbs slipping between the black spikes and just barely stopping himself from bowling Eddie over. “Jesus, fuck. Eds. How are you- what the fuck-” 

Eddie wants to say he’s fine. He does. It’s right there on the tip of his tongue because he feels fine. Except his mind reminds him that the blood soaked into Richie’s shirt and sprayed across his face is his, and he shouldn’t be fine. I should be dead, he thinks, almost inanely. An afterthought, a passing musing like you get when your mind drifts for a second. 

His mouth opens and shuts on the words. He thinks maybe he might choke on them if he tries to say them outloud, so he veers in the opposite direction instead. “I don’t fucking know man, your guess is as good as mine.” 

This answer is apparently not enough because Richie is pawing at his chest like a dog trying to get through the front door. Hands scrambling to lift up Eddie’s shirt even as Eddie frantically swats at him, twisting himself up and hopping backwards to get away. 

“Will you fuck off- stop it!” 

“Let me see, you little shit.”   
“No! I already checked, asshole. Get your hands off me!” 

“Ben hold him down before I knock him out.” 

“Don’t you fucking dare Hanscom.” He swerves, finger jutting in Ben’s direction who throws his hands up defensively. 

“I wasn’t-“ Ben cuts off at the borderline murderous look on Eddie’s face, and side steps to put himself squarely behind Beverly. 

“Guys, I’m fine.” Saying it makes his entire body shudder. His hands curling into tight fists at his sides. He figures he can unpack that feeling later...or like, never, that works too. “Literally, okay- look. Fuck.” He peels his shirt up himself. It’s still soaked in blood, tacky and gross, though the hole itself is gone and the fabric is as unmarred as the skin beneath. Touching it makes his face twist up in disgust. “See? Nothing. Are you fucking happy now?” 

When his gaze lifts back up they’re all staring at him again. Wide eyed and slack-jawed. Bev’s hand has lifted to cover her mouth. Richie looks ready to pass out or throw up, maybe even both. 

“Guys, seriously. I’m okay.” He does his best to offer a smile, but it’s hard. Not because there’s no reason for it, but because looking at them all standing there breaks his heart a little. They look so tired. Covered in sewer grime and blood, looking at him like God himself had dropped him in their midst. It makes it really difficult not to freak out. They all know he shouldn’t have walked away from that. Even Richie, who’d kept reassuring him that it’d be okay, had to have known on some level. 

He’s not sure exactly who moves first and he doesn’t think it really matters. They crowd around him in a tangle of arms, grasping at each other and sobbing in barely restrained relief. 

They’re alive. 

They made it. 

Eddie inhales a breath that shakes with the weight of his adrenaline. He half suffocates under the cloying stink of their combined mess; blood, sewage, and death clogging up his lungs. Normally he’d choke on it, gag hard against whoever’s chest his face is pressed against, but not this time. This time the instinctive dread that those combined aromas elicit in the pit of his stomach is gone. It is gone. They’re free. 

This is no place for celebration, and certainly not the time for it. Though they’re so lost in each other’s relief that they might have stood huddled together for hours if the world hadn’t had other plans.   
All around them the cavern shudders. The ground heaves beneath their feet and the monstrous groan of shifting earth echoes through the chamber. They spring apart as dust rains down from the high ceiling, a fissure spreading across the rocky earth. 

“We need to get out of here!” Bill’s voice is steady, he yells to be heard above the rumbling and it spurs them into action like it always does. 

They break apart as the rocks above their head splinter into chunks the size of SUVs. 

The escape from It’s lair feels like a fever dream. A rush of dark greys and sickly greens that blurs past him as they bolt back the way they came. All around them the world is collapsing, crumbling in on itself, and he can’t help but wonder if they’re going to die down here after all. He hopes not. He’d be really fucking pissed to come back from the brink of death only to get crushed by a rock ten minutes later. 

He doesn’t even want to think about how the narrow tunnel is closing in behind them, dirt and debris following them their entire route back up to the surface. Clouds of dust choke his lungs with each step. He remembers tripping over his own feet, over rocks, and someone else’s legs when the narrow passages force them into a tight bundle. Even in their mad dash to get out they’re instinctively aware of each other’s presence. As many times as Eddie feels himself stumble, there’s always someone’s hand grasping hard at his elbow to keep him steady. 

“Which way!?” Bill’s voice calls back from further up the tunnel. 

“Shit, the collapse must have-“ Mike’s words are lost beneath a loud, monstrous rumble. A roar that makes Eddie think of sharp teeth and glittering golden eyes. 

“Left!” 

“Eddie?” 

“Turn left.” Eddie’s gaze flicks back the way they came, then focuses ahead. They don’t have time to stand here and he thinks maybe his voice sounds too sure considering how hard he’s guessing, but it’s get lost or get crushed and one of those options sounds far more appealing than the other. “Go fucking left.” 

The others all stare at him in a mirror of the looks they gave him back at the crater. Confused, uncertain, almost like he’s sprouting a second head or coated in clown makeup.

The only one that moves when the earth rumbles again is Stan. He’s turning towards Bill, face set. “Listen to him.” 

Whatever doubts they have evaporate the moment determination hardens Bill’s features and he nods. “Alright. Everyone keep close.” 

Considering he was pulling that out of his ass Eddie is surprised at the sudden flood of certainty in his choice. He chalks it up to Bill as they all follow their leader into the left passage, sloshing forward through knee-deep water. 

The next fork in the sewer Bill turns to him expectantly, and Eddie half wonders how it’s possible to see everyone so clearly when there’s no visible light source. Objectively he knows it should be pitch black down here, but instead everything seems to be bathed in a sickly green glow. A light that serves to lengthen the shadows on his friend’s faces. It makes Bill look centuries older, wiser. Like looking up at the face of some ancient God. 

And isn’t that a little too much like being thirteen all over again? That sudden impulsive realization that he’d die if Bill asked it of him. 

He’s almost done it at least twice already, what’s once more? 

He gives directions and Bill leads the charge. Winding through the impossible maze of the Derry sewers on what feels like a whim and a prayer. Every time they ask him where to go and he answers, Eddie can’t help but hope that he’s not leading them in circles. Driving them deeper and deeper into darkness where they’ll die slow and painful. 

The water gets chest high at some point, raw sewage and muck coming dangerously close to his face. They’re half swimming, half walking, but there’s nowhere to put his hands that something doesn’t brush against his skin. The glow that lets them see each other isn’t kind enough to hide what floats around them. Some of it is innocent enough: plastic bags and broken branches. 

Eddie knows there’s worse down here. 

Memories of their first trip into the sewers. Falling to his knees in the water and being met with the rotting faces of a handful of waterlogged corpses. 

In this lighting every branch is skeletal fingers reaching out to snag his clothes, every white bag the sickly shine of a dead face. 

He has to fight a gag as a clump of what he can only assume is matted hair floats past. He’s going to need a lot more than a shower before he feels even remotely clean again. 

The rumbles of collapse grew distant until they’ve stopped altogether. They’d reached a part of the sewers that seemed stable enough and more importantly the water level was dropping. First to waist level, then back to knees, until finally it barely covered their ankles. 

They’re close. 

It sends a surge of adrenaline through them like the cresting of a wave against the shoreline. Eddie can feel it down to the tips of his toes and it makes him dizzy. The realization that they’re going to see sunlight again hits him with all the force of a tanker trailer barreling down the highway. It knocks the breath right out of his lungs the moment they turn a bend and the clarity from the outside world lights up the shadowed darkness of the tunnel like a promise. Suddenly nothing seems to matter except that soft golden glow in the distance. Not the stink of the sewers or the wet slosh of his sneakers with each step. 

All that matters is sunlight, and the way it lights up his friend’s faces as though fueling them from within. 

They have to crouch the closer they get to freedom, and they struggle at the mouth of the sewers in a huddled mass trying to all get out at once. For one shining, beautiful second, they’re thirteen again. Yelling and laughing, dodging elbows and yanking at the backs of shirts. It’s stupid and childish and Eddie ends up on his ass in the stream, but fuck it. He doesn’t give a shit. He’s laughing and he can’t stop. 

“Guys. We did it.” The weight of those words make Mike sink to the ground. Grinning like he’s saved up all his smiles for the last 27 years. 

Which, Eddie supposes, is true enough. He doubts Mike has had much reason to smile for the past couple decades. Something in his chest cracks painfully at the thought, head spinning at the sight of his friend looking more alive than Eddie thinks he’s ever seen him. There was always something subdued and altogether grown up about Mike, even when they were kids. He’d smiled and laughed with them, but not like that. 

This full body, radiating joy, that left Eddie feeling dazzled. 

The sensation left him defenseless for Richie, who’d plopped down next to him in the stream and pulled him into a sudden headlock. “All thanks to Derry’s resident badass!” He beamed, and it was probably the first genuine smile he’d seen on Richie’s face since they’d all come back, so he couldn’t even bring himself to bitch at him to let go. “How’s it feel to kill a space clown and cheat death all in one night?” 

Eddie snorted, “You guys are the ones that crushed It’s heart, I didn’t do shit.” 

“Aw, c’mom Eds you don’t believe that.” Richie pulled back, hand still gripping Eddie’s shoulder. “Fuck if it wasn’t for you we wouldn’t have even known what to do.” 

“He’s right Eddie.” Bev smiled, “Give yourself some credit, you saved us.” 

“Yeah man we were literally standing there with our dicks in our hands.” 

All the praise was making Eddie bristle uncomfortably. Not to say he didn’t like it, he did. That was kind of the problem. He...didn’t remember the last time someone had praised him for anything with so much genuine affection. It made him blush which in turn was making him curl up into himself, shoulders rising to hide the red tinge of his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” He huffed, swatting at the air haltingly like he could somehow knock their words away from him. 

“Aww guys I think he’s blushing. Cute.” 

“God I forgot how fucking annoying you are.” 

Richie just beamed at him. Broad and wide and crooked. He looks absolutely stupid with his eyes all squinty behind the cracked lenses of his glasses. Yet all of Eddie’s bluster melts right out of him in a rush, his own smile threatening to claw its way to the surface. 

It almost makes it too, until his eyes catch on the blood lacing the cracks in Richie’s lenses. His blood. 

Thinking about it makes the moment spark with such renewed clarity that he can almost feel the sensation of it all over again. The agony, the visceral shock of looking down and seeing something foreign protruding from your body. The realization that he was going to die. 

Some of that must be showing on his face because the smile Richie’s wearing falls into a look of concern. He feels a touch on his arm, tentative and light. “Eds, you okay?” 

He knows the others are turning to look at him, Mike muttering a concerned “Eddie?” Before he manages to shake off the memories with a full body shudder. 

“ ‘m fine guys.” He does his best to wave off their worried glances, hand batting at the air like his friend’s concern is a crowd of gnats swarming around his head. Then, because that’s not enough and they’re all still looking at him like he’s going to drop dead any second, he turns and snatches Richie’s glasses right off his face. 

“Hey! I need those!” 

“No shit.” He snaps, contorting his body to evade Richie’s stupidly long arms and grasping hands. “You might as well walk around fucking blind. How are you even seeing with these things?” 

“Practice. Now give them back you little shit!” 

He twists again, turning his body away so he can dip the glasses in the stream they’re all still sitting in. It must be a testament to the shit they’ve just been through that he hasn’t thrown some kind of fit about that. “Fuck off dipshit, let me clean them.” 

“Best to let him do what he wants Rich.” Bev said with a laugh, the other’s joining in as Richie makes an offended noise. 

Eddie doesn’t bother looking up, face scrunching as he focuses on scrubbing the blood from Richie’s glasses. He wishes, not for the first time since coming back to Derry, that he still had his fanny pack. He remembered starting to carry around a cleaning kit for Richie’s glasses after the third time he’d gotten frustrated at how dirty they were. Come to think of it, he still carried one. Had it packed in his toiletries bag back at the Inn. 

Some things never changed. 

Including his reasons for getting so twisted around over a pair of glasses that were going to end up smudged and dirty again regardless. Selfish. He wasn’t doing this for Richie’s benefit ( not entirely at least ) he was doing it for himself. At first it was because he hated seeing anything dirty, but then it was so he could see Richie’s eyes, and his face without the coke bottle lenses blowing half his features out of proportion. 

Now it was the blood. His blood. Smeared across the glass and seeping into the cracks in the lens. 

“Easy there tiger, I don’t have a spare.” 

“And who’s fault is that?” 

“Clearly, it’s Mike’s.” Richie said, throwing his thumb back in Mike’s direction. 

Mike snorted, leaning back on his hands, “Oh, I can’t wait to hear the logic behind that one.” 

“Well think about it! If I hadn’t been in a hurry to come get murdered...” 

“Bullshit, Tozier. You’ve never had a spare pair of glasses in your fucking life.” Stan kicked out his leg, sending a jet of water in their direction. “Freshman year the only thing keeping them together was duct tape and determination.” 

“Fuck off, Urine.” 

Stan and Richie were shooting each other double birds, when Eddie bumped Richie in the ribs with his elbow to snatch back his attention. “Here asshole.” He deposited Richie’s glasses in his outstretched palm, still not feeling entirely satisfied with how clean they were. Some of the blood had seeped into the cracks and even though you couldn’t really see it, Eddie knew it was there which was bad enough. “Don’t come bitching to me when those cracks give you a fucking headache.” 

“Aww he cares.” Richie makes like he’s going to pinch his cheek and Eddie overestimates his dodge enough to end up half sprawled in the stream. 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” He swipes at the water to send a wave of it in Richie’s direction as retribution, succeeding in soaking the comedian who’s cackling so hard he’s clutching his stomach. “You know I hate it when you do that.” 

“You two really haven’t changed at all have you?” Beverly’s laugh mixed with Richie’s in a way that threw Eddie right back into the clubhouse at thirteen. 

Stan snorted, “I knew Richie wasn’t going to age a day past fourteen but I was really holding out hope for you Eddie.” 

“Fuck off.” He flipped him the bird, working to get himself back up on his feet. 

“C’mon Stan, it’s not our fault you came out of the womb with a senior discount.” 

Even though he was focused on trying ( unsuccessfully) to wring the water from his wet hoodie, Eddie felt an intimate awareness of the group around him. It should be impossible after all this time spent apart from each other, their memories magically erased, but Eddie could picture his friends without even really looking. He knew Richie’s shit eating grin just from the cadence of his voice, no matter how much deeper it got, and that it never failed to get Stan to roll his eyes. He knew Bev was smirking like she had front row seats to a great show, ready to toss in a quip or two at a moment's notice. He could imagine Ben gazing at her before turning to look at all of them and beaming like he was just happy to be included. Mike’s fond smile, and Bill laughing even as he attempted to play mediator. 

It made him pause for a moment just to watch them. The thread of their conversations growing distant and losing coherency, becoming background noise as he simply took in their new faces doing things he’d only ever seen when they were young. He hadn’t really let himself do that before, at the restaurant. There’d been too many memories and sensations flooding to the forefront, and all of it coming to a screeching halt the moment Pennywise was mentioned. Then it was just endless running with no time to stop and settle back into each other. All of them fighting to keep each other alive and keep the promise they’d made all those years ago. 

He sighed, only half aware of his own fond smile, before he replaced it with something a little more familiar. Brows furrowing and lips turning down in a grimace. “Alright! As fun as it is sitting in Derry’s piss river I’d really like to get as far away from that-“ Hand lifting to point at the gaping sewer tunnel they’d climbed out of, “as I fucking can.” Objectively, the concept of the Derry sewer system was a lot less terrifying now that he knew It was gone for good, but the void staring back at him made him feel unnaturally cold. An iciness that spread out from his chest and down his limbs. 

He felt a shiver play it’s way down his spine like someone dragging their hands across the keys of a piano. His shoulders instantly jumped up almost to his ears and his arms crossed in front of his chest defensively. “Plus. I’m fucking freezing.” Knowing full well that the chill seeping through his veins had nothing to do with the temperature. It was as good of an excuse as any and at least it kept them all from staring at him with concern. 

Pointing out the entrance to the sewers seemed to have broken what momentary spell of tranquility and peace they’d all been under. Suddenly everyone was blinking, heads turning to look at each other as they mumbled words of ascent. 

“I need to call my wife.” Stan rubbed at his legs, absently feeling for a phone that wasn’t there and likely wouldn’t even work anymore if it was. “She hasn’t called since I got into town…at this rate I’m going to be lucky if all my stuff isn’t thrown onto the front lawn.”

“Yeah, and I really should get back to the library…” Mike flinched, scratching at the back of his head. “Considering there’s a dead body there and all.” 

“Fuck.” Richie’s eyes widened behind his glasses. “I forgot about that.” 

  
“Yeah, honestly- me too.” 

“Guys I don’t know if you know this but I would not last a fucking minute in jail.” 

“Oh believe me Richie, we know.” Stan was on his feet now, “You’re not going to jail though so relax.” 

“Oh yeah? What makes you so sure? You’re an accountant not a lawyer.” 

“No Rich, he’s right.” Mike shook his head, pushing himself up to his feet as well. “Even without It’s influence making the cops turn a blind eye, Henry Bowers is a child killer and a cop killer. If anything you’re far more likely to get the key to the city than go away for his murder.” 

“Yeah well, they can fucking keep it.” 

“Guys, I just need a fucking shower.” Ben had pulled Beverly to her feet with him and while she’d been following the conversation with interest, she interrupted it now. Out of all of them she looked the worst off. Her clothes, skin, and hair were all coated in what Eddie could only assume was blood. Only unlike Richie who just had it splattered across his front, she looked like she’d been dipped in it. “Eddie’s got a point, I’m cold and I want to get as far away from this place as humanly possible.” 

There were a few more mutterings of assent. Everyone climbed to their feet and looked even more wary and haggard than before. Someone suggested the Quarry just to get the grime off but Eddie vetoed that plan with a sound rant about how he’d spent enough time swimming in shit water the last few hours to last him a lifetime. Bill offered to go with Mike to the library and Mike agreed, so the pair of them broke off to head in that direction once they made it to Main Street. Eddie was sure the walk back to the Townhouse would be full of people staring now that It’s influence was gone, but the streets were eerily empty. Good news for the five of them since they looked like they’d just come out of a crime scene, but no less creepy than the tunnels they’d left behind. 

“It’s probably too much to hope someone cleaned my bathroom while we were gone, huh?” 

Four voices rising in unison, “Oh, definitely.” 

“Fuck.” 


End file.
